Dan L'amour et la Guerre
by The New Mandalord
Summary: After the Great War against the forces of Mumm-Ra, most of Third Earth is under the reign of Thundera. The desert nation of Khadar remains beyond grasp. As part of a pact, one of the princesses must marry King Lion-O for peace and unity. But can the king let go of a past that continues to haunt him? Or can he move on with his life? A collaboration with Fuuko no Miko.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey guys, The New Mandalord here.**

**I know what you're all thinking. _Why the hell is he not doing a Lichee fic?_**

**Truth is I was inspired by Fuuko no Miko's story, _In His Shoes: Rehashed_, and I would be lying if I didn't say I wanted to create my own version. Now this will be a collaboration fic between me and Fuuko, so if there is a deep lag between chapters it is more than likely we are working on the next chapter, we're wicked busy with our lives, or we're f-ing lazy.**

**With that said _please _read, enjoy, and REVIEW!**

**(Any flamers, please send to Fuuko no Miko's page.)**

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Her sister held the gown up for her inspection.

"Well isn't this lovely? Touch it. Go ahead. Caress the fabric."

Cleo touched the gown. The soft fabric was so smooth that it seemed to run through her fingers like water. She could not remember when she wore something this smooth or beautiful. Normally she wore clothes that had so much dirt and oil on them that it was hard to tell what the original color was, and for special occasions she would have to wear something more bland and plain so that she would not upstage her sister.

Her sister had a tendency to tease, or destroy her with fancy clothes that she claimed were made for her but obviously were not. Because of that she was afraid to touch it.

"Is it really mine?"

"A gift from Master Lirus," Nehla said smiling. Her sister was in a good mood tonight. "And you should have gold of course, and jewels of all sorts to bring out the violet in your eyes. Lirus promised to have it free of charge. He promised." Clearly she was in a good mood, but a nice dress, plus gold and jewels, what was the catch? "Tonight, you at least have to act like a princess."

A princess, Cleo thought. She had forgotten how to be one. Or maybe she never knew how to be one. "Why does he give us so much?" For almost half a year her family had been accepting gifts of all sorts from the squirrel known as Lirus. Cleo was twenty-three now, and despite the façade that she was forced to play, she was not naïve to the merchant's scheme of becoming the richest man in Khadar.

"Lirus is no fool," Nehla said. She was a more statuesque version of Cleo, with red eyes that shown like rubies in the right light. "The rodent knows that I won't forget my friends when Ajano becomes king."

Cleo said nothing. Lirus was a trader of spices, fine gemstones, foreign fashion, farming equipment, dragoon bones and scales, and other things that would surely give her nightmares if she thought about them. He had friends and trading partners in all of the oasis cities of Khadar, and even traded with the nomadic Roamers and human tribes out in the Shifting Sands. He was friendly, as long as people prayed the right price, and with Ajano becoming King and high officials from Thundera coming later this evening, all signs pointed to Lirus trying to get a small monopoly going so he does not get swallowed up by the competition, which just further proved the Nehla was an idiot.

The younger lioness sat on her bed and listened to the talk in the streets, and heard things, but chose not to question her older sister when she was weaving her idiotic web of dreams. Her anger was hard to quell when provoked. They actually had a nickname for it, they called it, "going feral."

Her sister hung the gown on her bed. "I'll send some servants' to bathe you. We need to wash off the smell of grease and oil off you. King Lion-O needs to see us as a savvy and prosperous nation, not a bunch of techno-barbarians."

She studied her critically. "You still slouch. Here, straighten your back." She pulled Cleo up, pushed her back so her chest stuck out, and pulled her shoulders so far back that it hurt. "You need to be perfect tonight. You don't want to fail us, do you?" She gave Cleo a pinch, so hard that neither her rough tunic nor her fur softened the blow. "Do you?"

"No." she said meekly, hiding her rolling eyes.

Her sister smiled. "Good." She touched her white hair, almost showing some compassion. "When they write the history of our people, sweet sister, they will begin with tonight."

When Nehla was gone, Cleo went to her window and looked wistfully on the waters of the bay. The circular marble towers of Kwandi were black silhouettes out lined against the setting sun. Cleo could hear the singing of the Sun priests as they lit their evening fires and the shouts of ragged children playing games beyond the walls of the palace. For a moment she wished she could be one of them, barefoot and breathless and dressed in tatters and dirt and sweat, with no past or future to turn to, and no ball to attend at some far off king's expense.

Somewhere across the desert, beyond the horizon, dune sea, and seemingly endless wasteland, lay a land of green hills and flowered plains and great rushing rivers that did not dry up whenever there was a drought, where cities were built amidst magnificent blue-grey mountains and not restricted to wherever there was water, and armored warriors rode machines to battle beneath their one, unifying banner. In Khadar that called it "Hayatin Kara," Land of Life. In the oasis towns that border its eastern fringe call it Thundera.

Nehla had a simpler name. "An endless bank" she called it. Those words almost became a prayer to her leading up to this day. If she said them enough, then maybe King Lion-O would look her way and make her his queen and spoil her rotten. Fine for Cleo, it would get her away from Nehla for a long time.

It was pretty easy to say that Nehla and Cleo did not get along. They were sisters by birth and the legendary white lions which ran Khadar, but that is where the similarities ended. They shared the same father, but not the same mother. The story goes that Ajano and Nehla's mother had been a rich, noble lady that married their father when she was very young, but as she grew older she grew more flirtatious with younger boys and one day ran off with one of them, never to be seen or heard from again. Some say that the king had them killed, others say that they were swallowed by the sand, some rumors floated around that she was tricked into slavery, while some had whispered that they are looked in a prison somewhere. Either way the original queen had disappeared, leaving Ajano and Nehla motherless and the king heartbroken.

That was until he met Cleo's mother. From what her older brother told her, she was an exact replica of her mother. She was a white lion mercenary from beyond the Shifting Sands. She was willful, courageous, hot-tempered, and somewhat of a gearhead, just like Cleo – tough she also got some mellow traits from her father. It was said that she took a contract in Kwandi as extra security and had a very passionate affair with the king. She died giving birth to Cleo, while he died from grief, and for that her half-sister Nehla had never forgiven her.

The only person she could ever rely on was her brother Ajano. At the Age of thirty-two, he had a year to go before he would be crowned king of Khadar. He was handsome, known for his great white mane, booming voice, and chiseled features, but Cleo saw the real him. He was kind and caring to her growing up, being the father which she never had, and was able to protect her from Nehla whenever she went feral. He used to call her "my lady," or "little princess," when she was younger, and it made her feel like one. But his duties to the throne increased, those luxuries faded into a dreamlike state, and she had to fend for herself from then on.

There came a soft knock on her door. "Come in," Cleo said, turning away from the window. Palace servants entered, bowed as they set about their business. They were slaves, a gift from one of Lirus's many slave trading friends. There was no slavery in the oasis cities, but ironically these two were. The old mouse, small and grey as a mouse (Just get this out, repetitive), never said a word, but the young jackal made up for it. She was quickly turning into Ajano's favorite, with sand-colored fur and dark green eyes, she was a concubine who was filled with boundless energy from the moment she woke.

They filled her bath with lukewarm water brought up from their reservoir and heated by the sun and scented with fragrant oils. The mouse pulled the rough cotton tunic over Cleo's head and helped her into the tub. The water was a bit on the cold side, but Cleo did not flinch or cry out. She liked her baths cold. It was a rare luxury, and it was one of the few times where she felt like royalty.

The old mouse washed her long, silver-pale hair and gently combed out the snags, all in silence. The jackal scrubbed her back and her feet and would not shut up about how lucky she was.

"Lion-O is so rich that even the streets to his cities are paved in gold. Over a million different animals march in his armies, and his palace has two thousand rooms and door made from solid silver."

There was more like that, so much more, enough to make Cleo's ears bleed over, and at points she wished they did, what a handsome man the king was, so tall and fierce, fearless in battle, the best swordsman in his kingdom, and a demon marksman. She assumed that the jackal had been talking to Nehla again, and how she was bragging about how she was going to be this lion's queen. Cleo had always assumed that she would be married off to some highborn lad in one of the oasis cities, he would get a wife to mount whenever he wished while her family got some convoluted trade agreement. Fortunately for her, Ajano was not that kind of a man, in fact he acted more like a protective father then an older brother to her, and would never sell her to someone he did not approve of. Yet now Ajano, Nehla, or Lirus was scheming something, and she did not like it.

When she was clean, the slaves helped her from the water and toweled her dry. The jackal brushed her fur and hair until it shown like blazing ivory, while the old mouse anointed her with flowery perfume from Thundera, a dab on each wrist, behind her ears, on the tip of her breasts, and the last one, cool on her lips, down between her legs. Cleo wanted to punch the mouse for doing that, but thought better of it. Was not her fault, she probably hated doing it as much as Cleo, but she had her orders.

They dressed her in the wisps that Master Lirus had sent up, and the gown, a midnight purple silk to bring out the violet in her eyes and better contrast with her white fur. The jackal slid the gilded sandals onto her feet, while the old mouse fixed the gold and sapphire in her hair, and slid golden bracelet crusted with pearls and amethysts around her wrist. Last of all came the necklace, or a collar in Cleo's opinion, a heavy golden thing emblazoned with ancient Khadarian glyphs.

"Now you look like a princess," the jackal said breathlessly when they were done. Cleo glanced at her image in the silver looking glass that was a hand-me-down from Nehla. "A princess," she thought, "I look more like an over-the-top prisoner!"

Every instinct in her body told her to rip all of that off her, throw the slaves out and barricade herself in her room. If Nehla, Ajano, or any of the Janissaries came to drag her to this ball, then she would go naked. If she could not make a good impression, then she'd happily make a lasting one. But then her father's cool and calm thinking kicked in, and she thought that maybe that was a horrible idea! She was trapped either way, may as well suck it up and deal with whatever happens.

Her sister was waiting in the cool of the entry hall, seated on the edge of the pool, her hand trailing in the water. She rose when she appeared and looked her over critically. "Stand there," she told her. "Turn around. Yes. Good. You look…."

"Regal, is the word you were looking for." Master Lirus said, stepping through an archway. The rodent moved with surprising delicacy for such a massive man. Beneath loose garments of flamed-coloredsilk, rolls of fat fur jiggled as he walked. Gemstones glittered like stars on every finger, and he had oiled his goat-like orange beard until it shown like fire. "The Sun God showers you with his blessing on this most fortunate day, Princess Cleo," the merchant said as he took her hand. He bowed his head, showing a thin glimpse of crooked yellow teeth through his flaming beard. "She is a vision, Your Grace, a vision," he told her sister. "The lords of Thundera will be enraptured."

So now she was being married off to some high lord in Thundera, great!

"She's too skinny," Nehla said, obliviously threatened by Cleo. Her hair, the same ivory-white as her, had been pulled back into a behind her head into a bun and held with two dragoon bone sticks. It was a severe look that emphasized the beautiful, elegant lines of her face. Her outfit was like Cleo's, just with less gold and more platinum and diamonds, and much more revealing. Obviously she was trying to land the king tonight. She rested her head on the palm of her hand and said, "Are you sure that anyone will notice her?"

"She will be noticed, don't you worry about that, maybe not as much as you though."

"I suppose," her sister said doubtfully. "The Thunderians have a weird taste. I heard some of them sleep with robotic bears."

"Best not suggest this to King Lion-O," Lirus said.

Anger flashed in her sister's blood red eyes. "Do you take me for a fool?"

The merchant bowed slightly. "I take you for a queen. Queens lack the caution of commoners. My apologies if I given offense."

"Any more, and I'll have you in the dungeons." Ajano said as he entered through the same archway. He was in a yellow tunic, yellow boots and a white cotton kafiya, wrapped loosely around his neck. His mane was in an organized kind of wild, showing that he was both a strong leader as well as a gentleman. An ivory-handled khopesh hung from his black leather belt. He stood in sharp contrast to Lirus's stock, soft, body. Behind him were two Janissaries, their families troops and bodyguards, and each was in full dark bronze colored Missaglias steel armor and carried a copper-handled kijils.

They pushed Lirus aside and escorted the royal family out of the palace. The streets of Kwandi were pitch-dark when they set out in Lirus's elaborately made ground-car. Two other Janissaries stood in front, while the original two walked in the back. The ground-car crept at a slow pace to allow the Janissaries in back to keep pace. It was warm and close inside the car. Cleo could smell the stench of Lirus's oiled fur still lingering on her.

Her brother patted her on the back, and that put her mind at ease. "You look beautiful tonight, my lady."

She smiled, but that smile quickly dropped when she saw the fire in Nehla's eyes. Nehla spread out along the seat. "I wonder if King Lion-O is as rich as they say."

"Nehla, behave yourself." Ajano said.

"Yes, yes," she said, she was too far into her own fantasies to care about her brother's threats. "I'm just wondering what a Champagne bath would be like."

"Nehla!"

The ground-car slowed and stopped. The doors were thrown back, and a slave offered a hand to help her out. Ajano waved the slave off and offered a hand to help Cleo out. Nehla followed, along with the Janissaries, who all had one hand clenched hard around their swords.

Inside the manse, the air was heavy with the scent of spices, wild-fire and sweet lemon and cinnamon. They were escorted across the entry hall, where a mosaic of color glass depicted Lineage of the White Lions. Oil burned in black iron lanterns all along the walls. Beneath an arch of twinning stones leaves, a human slave sang their coming. "Ajano of the house Nasandi, second of his name," he called in a high, sweet voice that sound far too rehearsed, "Royal Governor and ruler over the ever changing sands of Khadar. His sister, Nehla Nasandi, Royal Governess. And their youngest, Cleo Shir, Princess of Kwandi."

They stepped past the human into a pillared courtyard overgrown in desert ivy. Moonlight painted the leaves in shades of bone and silver as the guests drifted among them. To Cleo, they looked dead. How this parasite of a plant was a part of her household was beyond her. If it was up to her, she would have them all burned and replaced with plants that would guarantee life, not something that constantly wasted water and gave nothing back in return.

Many of the guests were King Lion-O's lords and ladies, mostly different cats that made up the famous Thundercats. First one she saw was Lion-O's adoptive brother, prince Tygra, and he did live up to all of the gossip. Clean fur that looked like some fine fabric, a devilish smile that could make a maiden swoon, clear-eyed, and muscled like any maiden's fantasy. Next to him was Lord Bengali, Lion-O's master-at-arms, and he seemed to copy Tygra in many ways, but instead of healthy orange fur was blazing white.

She then noticed the women they were with and could easily tell that they were their wives, just from the amount they were hanging off them. Princess Cheetara could easily turn heads just by batting her eyelashes, and had the physique to take on seven janissaries. Lady Pumyra's beauty was wild to say the least. She had dark brown fur, grey eyes, and covered in white bleached-out marks, no doubt showing her tribal heritage.

They were both beautiful with supple, Lilith bodies and shapes that made her and Nehla jealous. Hard to believe that they only had two babes a piece.

Nehla whispered to Cleo, "By the pillar is King Lion-O. The human with him is Nikolia Angelucci. Little is known about him, not even Lirus knows that much on him, just that he is called the Living Nightmare."

She looked at Lion-O, Thundera's crowned king. He had to be the exact opposite of his brother, master-of-arms, or bodyguard. He appeared thin, almost frail in the pale moonlight, his blue eyes lifeless and empty, his mane was long and the color of rust, and his tan fur looked as sad the desert ivy. Only his majestic clothing declared him royalty and somehow compensated for his somewhat contrite appearance. Had he been in rags she wouldn't have been able to differentiate him from the vagrants that roamed the streets of Khadar.

This was him? This pitiful excuse of flesh and fur was the same Lion-O who defeated Mumm-ra and unified most of Third Earth? It couldn't be! It had to be some sort of trick. Cleo turned to Ajano and saw that it was true. Lirus, all smiles and bows, was escorting King Lion-O over to where they stood. She had expected to be overwhelmed by the presence of the Thunderan monarch…but this was now reduced to a feeling of…what was it? A cross perhaps of pity and disenchantment…she can almost hear her older sister's horror and inside her head she almost snickered.

"Smile," Nehla whispered nervously, likely hiding her disappointment, her hand pinching her back. "And stand up straight. Let him see that you have breasts. Gods know, you have little enough as is."

Cleo put on a false smile, and stood up straight.

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**Author's Notes:**

**...Is it safe to come out yet?**

**Fuuko no Miko: Seems to be... for now.**

**Good. At least the flamers haven't come around, yet.**

**Fuuko: They will when they find out what you did to Lion-O. By the way, what did you do to make him look like that? He looks like he's on his death bed.**

**I just locked him in your dungeon for a couple months.**

**Fuuko: HEY!**


	2. Chapter 2

_Author Notes:_

_For starters, we would like you to know that this is AU. Most of the things that occurred here happened on the show, except that Pumyra is not Mumm-Ra's arm candy. And while this comes with questions on what happened with the Sword of Plundarr, the abomination that is episode 23 (Fuuko no Miko abhors that episode with a passion and would like to bury it in the deepest recesses of the cerebrum!) and things that occurred at Avista, fahgetaboutit. We're not going to try to explain those because its too long, too complicated, and it's not like TC does not have plot holes X-P. In any case…we present for your enjoyment…chapter 2._

_And my cohort here will explain to all you folks what a har is…._

_If you've read any of my work you can tell at which point I start taking over this fic *insert maniacal laughter here*_

_Thundercats and its characters are property of Ted Wolff, WB etcetera etcetera. We make no money from this. Otherwise we'd both be rich and buying yachts and small uninhabited islands._

_Writen by Fuuko no Miko_

_Edited by The New Mandalord_

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Lion-O was once a crowned prince of Thundera without a care in the world, a believer in the technology of old, and next in line for the crown. But in one night everything changed. From the bowels of darkness came Mumm-ra and his lizard army using the technology that the Book of Omens warned about, using riding on floating platforms, utilizing machines with cannons that would knock down walls in one blast and break the earth they crawled upon, and giant, mechanized walkers as big as three story buildings. They all laid siege to Thundera, and destroyed it in one night, with hopes of reducing the cats from top predator to endangered species.

Mumm-ra, however, did not achieve his goal of ultimate domination of Third Earth. Lion-O was able to reunify the cats, gathering survivors of the Thunderian invasion. He also unify the diverse tiger tribes of the mountains, the horses of the plains, the lizard loyalists of the Black Marsh, the wolves to the north and the dogs to the east, elephants of the west, and the many human nation-states which had most of the manpower, technology, and resources to destroy the forces of Mumm-Ra the Ever Living. With the largest army in the existence of Third Earth, Lion-O was able to collect the remaining three stones of power, and send the demon into the farthest pit of hell imaginable.

They called him Lion-O the Great, Lion-O the Conqueror, the lion who was able to unify most of the planet and bring it into a new age of technology, growth and prosperity. But now Lion-O saw himself as a shell of what he once was. All of those youthful ideals seemed to burn away, he had more scars then he cared to admit, he ate more for sustenance rather than enjoyment, and he could barely go one night without waking up screaming or in a cold sweat. His visions of Thunderian dreams were reduced to nightmares, with only his duties as king serving as a diversion to what other unholy thoughts invaded his mind.

The visitors poured through the city's gates in a river of dark grey and white, and polished steel, one hundred strong, a pride of flag bearers and officers, of royal guards and loyal militia. Over the heads of their massive tanks a dozen golden banners whipped back and forth in the desert wind, emblazoned with the crest of the Thundercats.

Lion-O knew most of these soldiers. They served with him on the frontlines all of those years ago. All were battle hardened, veteran warriors who made up his royal guard. They all wore the latest in body armor which gave them more likelihood of surviving a direct impact from standard weapons, but was completely useless against stronger weapons, and carried more advance, and lethal, firearms. No doubt showing the white lions and jackals of the south of what Thundera was capable of.

Lion-O rode at point, surrounded on all sided by well -trained snipers, on a young Har'Gar. The Har'Gar where nothing like the Har, for starters the Har are a mixture of feathers and fur while their distant desert cousins are hard, scaly flesh and muscle. Secondly, Lion-O and his other mounted units had to sit on the mount's neck rather than their backs. It is said that the har'gars are capable of living for long periods of times without food or water, but have very poor tolerance to the cold climates at night. The main har'gar advantage over a Har are their exceptional endurance and load bearing capability. Most of his mounted soldiers were able to live off whatever provisions they brought with them without having to make camp.

Their feet are specifically crafted to move over sand at high speeds, and large soft pads help spread their weight to avoid sinking in soft sand. Because of these evolutionary advantages, they were making great time making it to the capital city of Kwandi – if it was not for their wagons sinking into the sand. Their battle wagons, mainly made from going over uneven terrain and rolling planes, were out of place in the deep sands of Khadar. Their heavy wheels caused them to sink, and their treads helped them with traction if they kept a slow, steady pace. So for four blistering days in the hot Khadar sun, they had to go at a crawling pace, fearing bandits, dragoons, and dehydration. Fortunately, the information Lion-O was given kept him from losing anyone.

They arrived at the compound where he and his entourage would be staying. A very nice, walled area provided by a fat little squirrel called Lirus. Lion-O slipped off his har'gar, which was kind enough to lower its neck. Lion-O gave it a series of scratches underneath the beast's scaly chin to show his respect. It seemed to enjoy it as a servant came to claim the animal.

Lion-O watched as his brother helped his wife from the wagon, watched how they talked and laughed with Bengali and Pumyra, and how they were swarmed by his personal guard. As he watched, he noticed a man standing slightly apart, looking at him. A tough human male in his late twenties had a lean, wolfish appearance, and a matching grin. He was in a white surcoat with a red sash, and dark trousers tucked into yellow boots. Long dark hair and a beard, and four throwing knives in a scabbed attached high on his left shoulder. He also wore a scimitar that once belonged to Grune the Destroyer, and his right forearm carried a triple-plated Missaglias steel guard. As Lion-O tensed and looked more closely, he thought, but was not sure, that he could detect the harness of a hidden-blade just beneath the man's left and right hand. The surcoat was hooded, but the hood was down, and the man's unkempt hair was kept in check by a bright red bandana.

The man slowly approached with his wolf-like smile, and hugged him. "Your highness! Good to see you again!"

"Nikolia!" Lion-O said as he hugged his godson back. "It's good to see you too. I didn't recognize you with the beard."

"They don't believe in shaving around here."

"And the get up?"

"You do what you can to dodge the Janissaries', even if that means looking like one." He put a hand on Lion-O's shoulder. "Come, I have much to tell you."

He guided Lion-O out of the compound undetected and through the teeming throng. The crowded lanes he led him down, each side filled with stalls selling all manners of goods under a kaleidoscope of colored awnings, were filled, it seemed, with people of every species of Khadar. Desert lions, jackals, oryxs, horned lizards, bobcats, jackrabbits, coyotes, and even a few humans here and there were busy bartering with each other, cat street cries mingled with others in humans many tongues. As for the common tongue, Lion-O had recognized the different accents of cat, dog, and human before he walked one street block. And there were other languages he half recognized or he could guess at. And a guttural language he did not recognize at all, spoken by tall, blazing white lions, who wore their manes and beards wild and long.

"Welcome to the Galat District." Nikolia beamed as he sat Lion-O down at an outdoor café. "For centuries, it has been a home to orphans from all over this desert. You won't find a more diverse city anywhere else. Not even New Thundera has this."

"Yet," Lion-O said. "I aim to change that. Now you said you had some information for me?"

Nikolia nodded, and with that Lion-O motioned to his brother and the three of them headed off to a small office at the very back of the compound.

Lion-O stepped out of that meeting, well informed, and with this knowledge to use in the decisions he had to make. He was not one for parties, as all this false pageantry were nothing to him but a nuisance, but it was one of the necessities of his occupation as monarch. Lord Ajano seemed to have pulled out all the stops to welcome their entourage with all the colorful décor that lined the streets that led to the palace, as well as the grandiosity of the ballroom where the royal banquet was to be served. Not bad for a small kingdom in the middle of nowhere.

"Your grace." Ajano and his two sisters bowed in respect. "You honor us with your presence."

"We are honored to be here, Lord Ajano." Lion-O acknowledged. His gaze shifted briefly at the two lionesses flocking the future king of Khadar.

One was older, taller and rather striking with eyes that resembled rubies in their crimson hues. He had learned before that her name was Nehla.

She smiled at him, and though it was a perfect, pearly grin, Lion-O could tell it lacked warmth and sincerity. "I hope you find your journey here not too tedious, your highness." She tilted her head seductively as the lion lifted her hand to kiss it, though he barely allowed his lips to graze her fur.

"Nothing we weren't prepared for." He answered nonchalantly before turning to the younger sister.

Right off the bat the Thunderian monarch could sense the other lioness didn't want to be here. Her smile was polite, but relatively sincere compared to her sister. She was trying to hide the shifting of her feet under the expensive gown she wore. This one was named Cleo, he was told. While she was not as visually striking as her sister, she did not have any shortcomings in the looks department. If he were to objectively put it, he would say she was rather pretty with her silky silver locks and violet eyes.

"A pleasure to meet you, your highness." She greeted as he took her hand to kiss it as well. Cleo noticed he was doing it mostly out of courtesy, but she didn't mind. Unlike her sister, she was in no hurry to be married off, rule a kingdom and start dipping her claws into its bountiful resources.

"As well."

Ajano had then started the festivities. Lion-O was seated to the right of the future king of Khadar. Nehla made her way to sit to Lion-O's right, smiling at him the whole time to which the Thunderian monarch obliged her with more of a smirk. Cleo sat to this left after Ajano. She didn't mind that it's not typically the side where one looks for conversation, but she would sit anywhere as long as it was away from her sister.

The feast was plenty and the entertainment was eye-catching. Other than Lion-O, the whole Thunderian entourage appeared satisfied and even more so with what the kingdom of Khadar has been providing. Nehla had been talkative and tried to engage the lion in meaningful conversation but he had been curt and replied as short and as vaguely as possible. Cleo had been watching the exchange, if you could call it that, through a corner of her eye. Inside her head she laughed at her sister's beginning frustration at the king's apparent disinterest in her idle chatter. While Nehla kept smiling, tossing her hair and waving her hand, Cleo could tell through her sister's ruby-red gaze that she was getting irritated.

She was in the middle of suppressing a giggle when Lion-O suddenly turned her way. "And what are your thoughts on these supposed rebel factions forming in the streets of Khadar, your highness?"

Caught unawares, Cleo barely mouthed an "Um" when her sister interrupted. "You have to forgive my sister, King Lion-O." the older princess said. "She knows nothing about politics. Her head is typically buried in between motor oil and clanking engines."

Lion-O's brow raised and the faintest hint of interest…or something like it…sparked in his otherwise apathetic gaze. "You have interest in machines and technology, Princess Cleo?" he asked.

"A little," She shyly replied, suddenly a little conscious that the audience within close proximity all turned to her.

"A little is an understatement." Ajano beamed proudly at his little sister. "She's the most technically savvy mechanic within a hundred mile radius of Khadar."

"And that is an exaggeration." Nehla all but snapped at her older brother. "You don't know every grease monkey in Khadar, brother."

"I'm somewhere in the middle." the younger princess smiled to placate her siblings.

"You will find Thundera interesting then." Panthro interjected. "We have such advancements it will make you head spin."

"Are you snatching both my sisters from me then?" Ajano laughed. "I could use a little less competition in the royal powder room so I may take you on that offer."

"Maybe." Tygra had then spoken up before stealing a glance at his brother. The little light of hope was extinguished in him when his gaze turned all but empty again. "The palace is big enough for multiple royals."

Nehla's lips thinned at the thought she might have to share anything with her sister when they get to Thundera. She decided she was going to have to charm the king off his socks so he would take her to his kingdom by herself.

And so far, it isn't working.

As though on cue, the music had cranked up and several couples have taken to the romantic waltz on the floor.

"I love this song." The older princess remarked as she smiled at Lion-O once again. "Would your highness honor me with a dance?"

Lion-O was about to decline when his brother and his bodyguard simultaneously gave him a quick nod. He accepted her request and led her graceful form to the ballroom floor.

"We're going to hang for that." Tygra said.

"Yes we are." Nikolia said. "Let's hope he still doesn't have two left feet."

Most of the others have taken to the dance floor as well. Cleo sat back on the almost deserted table, quite relieved that she was by herself other than one or two other guests who were quite intoxicated already at this early stage. Her shoulders relaxed from sitting up straight and tensing up. Her eyes drifted to where her sister had been waltzing with the Thunderian king and noted that Nehla had turned up the volume with her flirting. Her sister was no shrinking violet when it came to things…or in this case…persons she was interested in. She's never known her sister to be particularly enamored with any male, other than the ones who would shower her with presents…and even so she bored of them easily and dismissed them with nonchalance.

Then again, Nehla had never bagged herself a king. Not yet. Particularly one who ruled over a vast a domain as Thundera and most of Third Earth.

And if King Lion-O's reaction to her sister's charms were any indication, the lioness has her work truly cut out for her. When she first laid eyes on him, Cleo had thought the king of Thundera was a walking book of tragedy, as sad and hollow as he looked. He appeared as though his very soul had been snatched away from him….certainly not the legend that had wiped out Mumm-Ra and his lizard army. He spoke little and sounded distant and uncaring.

Something tragic has likely befallen him, she thought. Or had the war against the mummy taken its toll on him? Perhaps both.

He's going to be his Nehla's problem now, she thought. And with that she almost felt sorry for her sister. Almost.

Lion-O had to tune out his ear with the older princess' talking. Had he been a blunter and disrespectful he would have told her to shut her trap. He was not like that however and indulged her shallow attempt of sweeping him off his feet with her saccharine sweetness. Years ago he would have been more than happy to entertain Nehla's superficiality, as objectively beautiful as she was. But those were the salad days of youth when the mere sight of a pretty cat would tie his tongue. So much has happened since then and he was a far cry from the Lion-O of ten years ago.

Some of those events, he refused to ever live through again, as much as they have broken him.

Looking at the radiant lioness in his arms, he concluded that his sources were right. Lion-O had sent his godson to Khadar weeks in advance to scout for him. He had received the report from him moments before the ball.

"To put it bluntly, Princess Nehla is a gold-digger." Nikolia had informed him and Tygra when the three of them had that personal conference once they had arrived in the kingdom. "While she hasn't dug her little claws into anyone's purse that deep yet, she's not exactly shy of the fact that the way to her heart is through diamonds and gold….a load of it."

Tygra swore uncharacteristically. "Had the rules not specified for a pure lion heir I would suggest we just circumvent the rules." He spoke. "As it is, our choices are limited."

"I would have circumvented any rule for her." Lion-O muttered under his breath, his memory suddenly flooded by a thought that caused his sullen features to darken with hatred.

Nikolia tapped the king's shoulder as though to break him out of that momentary darkness he had sunk it. "Hope isn't completely lost, my king." he interrupted. "The younger princess is a bit more of a ray of sunshine and hope."

"Let's hear it." Tygra spoke a little loud, somewhat trying to snap his brother out of his reverie as well. "She isn't too young though, Nikolia?"

"Just a few years younger than our original prospect." The human reported. "Princess Cleo is a little more grounded, and she is a half-sister to both Lord Ajano and Princess Nehla. Her mother was the king's second wife. Less princess-y so to speak." He mused. "The subjects of Khadar seem to take more of a liking for her, more down-to-earth, less prissy. Not much into politics at all per my sources. She has a tendency to keep to herself."

"She may need some training with the public relations aspect of it." The tiger spoke thoughtfully. "Well, we'll see in an hour or so…though I think the younger princess sounds theoretically like a better choice."

"The question is whether she would agree to it." Nikolia said.

"If she knows what's good for her country, she wouldn't even bat an eyelash." Tygra turned to Lion-O. "That agreement is still in place, right?"

"Both parties have come to this before we even set foot in this kingdom." Lion-O spoke. "That she would say no would be akin to breaking the treaty."

"She looks the type that would break it though." The human commented.

"Not if Lord Ajano has anything to say about that."

"I think Ajano has in mind that Princess Nehla would be the sacrificial lamb to our agreement….not sure if he's spoken to his little sister the possibility that it could be her."

Lion-O stood up to break the conversation. "It's not set in stone. I will have the final word once I've met both of them." With that he stepped away from the two and exited the conference room. He was far from earshot before the other two spoke.

"Do you think either princess can break him out of this, Nikolia?" Tygra turned to the human.

"I'm not optimistic but…for his highness sake I certainly hope so." Nikolia sighed.

Tygra lifted a brow. "I suppose we should get ready for the ball. Are you ridding yourself of all that facial hair before we do so? Your wife didn't look too enthused."

"Last I checked, facial hair is not a ground for separation." He laughed before the two of them both made their exit.

Lion-O's thoughts focused on the lioness before him. It's probably been 3 or 4 more songs since he started dancing with her, though his mind was elsewhere. Princess Nehla reminded him of a pretty, polished vase, beautiful outside and hollow on the inside. He managed more of a smirk than a smile to her incessant chatting.

Cleo was still on the banquet table, entertaining herself with observing the subjects around her. Several times she had declined offers to dance as those who seemed her fit to invite were quite inebriated, and the last thing she wanted was to cause a scene by trying to kick someone for attempting to grope her unmentionables.

"Honor me with a dance, your highness?"

The younger lioness looked up to see Tygra offering a hand. She nodded and allowed him to lead her upon the floor. The tiger prince glided her effortlessly and Cleo found herself smiling. She had little experience with a waltz but he had been quite good at coaching her. The dance didn't last very long however, as the two of them geared up close to Lion-O and Nehla.

Nehla tried not to act a little surprised when the tiger prince switched her with the king in exchange for her sister.

Cleo didn't miss the scathing look her older sibling threw at her.

Ajano in turn, who was also watching, grinned in amusement.

"Your lordship, it looks like Princess Nehla has found some form of competition." An older lion standing behind Ajano commented.

"Serves her right." He murmured to his Prime Minister. "My sister does need to be taken down a peg from time to time."

"You don't suppose King Lion-O would choose Princess Cleo?"

The future king of Khadar suddenly had a serious disposition. "Our treaty specifies that he is to marry a princess of Khadar, though it doesn't matter which one. This is purely a political arrangement."

"I'm surprised they agreed to it, the highnesses I mean."

"Nehla was more than happy to be involved." He took a sip of his wine. "You know how many times she tried on mother's crown and rehearsing in front of the mirror and calling herself Queen Nehla?"

"I wouldn't put it past her to do so." The elder official agreed. "But Princess Cleo…."

"My little sister is convinced that once the king lays his eyes on Nehla that he wouldn't go home without her."

"And if not…and he chooses her instead?"

Ajano shrugged. "Then she cannot say I didn't warn her." And though the heir to the desert kingdom's throne appeared nonplussed about it, he admitted to himself he was going to miss his little sister should the king of Thundera choose her to be his Queen. He was more of a father figure to her than he is a brother and he loved her even if they were not of the same mother.

Lion-O was relieved when his brother has swapped the chatty princess for this one. Cleo was almost the polar opposite of the statuesque Nehla. She was relatively petite and her features were more delicate than the older princess. Though she physically looked fragile he could sense she was no helpless damsel in distress.

Cleo's eyes searched the monarch opposite her. She could tell that beneath his sallow exterior was a handsome face that was likely striking in his heyday. She could detect the laugh lines at the corner of his eyes and his mouth. His eyes would have been a vibrant green had it not been for the despair she sees in them. While she knew not the tragedy that befell him, she could almost feel the burden on his shoulders.

"How are you finding our little kingdom, King Lion-O?" she decided to break the stony silence while mustering up a smile.

"It's very culturally diverse." He replied. "I haven't seen a mixture quite like your Galat district."

"With those diverse cultures come the different cuisines, religions and technology." She replied.

"My fellow Thunderians are quite curious to experience it, your highness." The lion stated. "We're hoping to do so in the next few days before we return to Thundera."

Cleo tried not to be elated at the thought that her older sister was going to be whisked off to the kingdom of the Thundercats in the next few days. She can visualize the party she would be throwing in her head that she was going to be free of Nehla and her vanity and haughtiness.

"You cannot be serious!"

Nehla had beaten her sister to the punch with the exclamation of surprise, thus rendering Cleo speechless.

Ajano wasn't too shocked when Prince Tygra had notified him of King-Lion-O's intent to unify the kingdoms with his marriage to Princess Cleo.

Not Nehla. The tiger had been none-too-clear.

"There must be some mistake." Cleo mumbled nervously, more anxious of leaving Khadar than facing her older sister's rage.

"It is a mistake!" Nehla proceeded to her sister who was sitting down across their brother. She grabbed the younger lioness by the arm a little too firmly. "What did you say to him to make him choose you?" the older sister was snarling. "Did you promise to do fancy things on his marital bed you little…"

"Enough!" the lion spoke firmly in a tone he used but rarely, thus silencing the feral princess. "Before this ball was held both of you knew that this could go either way."

"But he was supposed to choose me!" Nehla angrily released her sister's arm before flopping on the seat across.

"If he was only allowed to choose you then we could have just sent off to Thundera in ribbon and wrappings." Ajano snarled. "The treaty states that the king of Thundera has the right to pick whomever he sees fit to be his Queen and produce his heirs."

"Cleo knows nothing about carnal pursuits, or how to please his majesty!" the older princess protested, pouting and crossing her arms.

"And I'm sure that's part of your expertise." Cleo rolled her eyes upward, dodging the visual darts her sister threw her way.

"The threat of insurgency is no longer imaginary, sisters." Ajano stated. "That our enemies are rumored to be affiliating with more powerful forces is a confirmed fact. We need a strong ally on our side and Thundera is the most powerful of them all. Unfortunately we truly have nothing to offer them in return for aid and protection. They have no use for our minimal resources and they have far more superior weapons and technology than we do." He paused before looking at his sisters eye to eye. "Luckily, we do have an ace in our deck…that King Lion-O needs an heir. Not just an heir, but a lion heir to take over the throne. We are the last remaining lions on this planet and thus, no matter how politically incorrect it sounds, one of you has to be our sacrificial lamb. This marriage unites both kingdoms and protects all that our ancestors have established here and guarantees a place for our descendants to call home." He stood up and leaned forward as though to emphasize a point. "I would not have agreed to this if I thought that King Lion-O is not a good, honorable soul. He would not be where he is now is he was not. I will not risk the safety of my blood, my family, if I had thought he was a monster."

"He certainly looks like one." Nehla snorted. "So….sickly looking! He needs more meat on those bones if he is to think he can dominate me."

"Nehla!"

"That's not exactly a good first start for a marriage." Cleo commented, which drew a stare of daggers from her sister.

"In case you were deaf, little sister, may I remind you that the emaciated king chose you." She emphasized the last word. "I guess his body isn't the only part of him that is lacking in nourishment!"

"You will hold your impetuous little tongue." Ajano threatened. He then turned to his younger sister and put a calming hand over hers. "Cleo, you know we had talked about this weeks before."

"I know." She responded meekly. "I was just convinced I was not going to be chosen."

"So was I." Nehla remarked, earning another venomous look from her brother.

"He's going to be a good husband." The lion reassured.

But am I ready to be a wife? Cleo mentally asked. She looked up at her brother, seeing in his eyes that he wasn't quite ready to see her married off yet, but the safety of Khadar depended on it. Sometimes one has to make a choice between duty and family and with this one, Lord Ajano was in a bit of a bind.

"Well then." The younger princess stood up. "I guess it's time to pack for Thundera."

* * *

_Author Notes:_

_As mentioned, I'm hoping you can distinguish which parts have been authored by whom. Mostly because I like to keep by signature writing style on there ;-)_

_Lion-O: Why do I feel like a walking carcass in this story?_

_Tygra: You act like one too._

_Lion-O: And since when did you become chummy with Nikolia?_

_Nikolia: Since he agreed to take my place in the dungeon._

_Tygra: I didn't agree to…hey!_


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello everybody, The New Mandalord is back with aother chapter.**

**So there has been alot going on between chapters, and I'm affraid there is going to be more. W're getting a hurricane,... yay...**

**Anywho, just read, enjoy and review.**

**Writen by me**

**Edited by Fuuko no Miko**

* * *

Cleo was in her room, packing several polished redwood chests – most were bigger than she was. Normally she would have the palace servants help her. All she would have to do was point and they would fetch it for her. But as of lately, she wanted to be alone and ordered anyone to leave.

The door behind her opened, and Cleo said, "I thought I said I wanted to be alone!"

"Even to me?"

Cleo glanced behind her, saw Ajano, and jumped to her feet. She threw her arms tight around his neck. Ajano kissed her sweet brow, wrap her in his massive arms. "I was afraid I was going to leave without saying good-bye," she said, her breath catching in her throat. "None of the Janissaries would let me out to say good-bye."

"What did you do now?" Ajano was slightly amused.

Cleo untangled herself from him and made and pouted. "Nothing! I was all packed and everything." She gestured to the huge chest, almost all of her cloths and belongings were in it and it was not even one-third full. "Then Nehla comes in here and takes out all I've packed….everything. Saying that a proper queen doesn't just throw her clothes inside her chest like useless, old rags."

"Nehla said that?"

"I think that was her way of saying good-bye." She said. "They're going to get all messed up anyway, who cares how they're folded?"

"Clearly Nehla," Ajano told her with a slight snicker. "I have something for you to take with you, and it has to be packed carefully."

Her face lit up like the sun. "A gift?"

"You could call it that. Hold out your hands, and close your eyes."

Wary but excited, Cleo did as she was told. As a child, Ajano would usually catch her peeking, and even now she tried for old time sake. By then Ajano had pulled off the rags he had wrapped it in. He then plopped it in her hands.

Cleo's eyes went wide. "A sword," she said in a small, hushed breath. "Did we run out of jewels?"

"I figured you'd like this better," Ajano smiled. "It belonged to your mother."

The khopesh handle was a soft graying brown leather, and as supple as skin. Ajano drew out the blade slowly, so he could see the deep blue sheen of the steel. "This is no toy," he told her. "Be careful you don't cut yourself. The edge is sharp enough to shave with."

"We don't shave," Cleo said.

"Maybe we should. Have you ever seen the hair balls I coughed up?"

She giggled at him, another sound he was going to miss. "It's so light."

"So are you," Ajano told her. "It is said that this blade is special. Your mother was lightning quick with this sword, and with the right training, you will be to."

"I'm fast," Cleo said as she slid the curved sword back into the sheath.

"You'll have to work it every day." He showed her how to hold it in her hands, and stepped back. "I'm sure Lord Bengali or Nikolia can help you with training. But here is the first lesson, strike quickly and easily."

"Easy enough," She looked at the sword again. Out of all of her possessions, this was the only thing that could connect her to her mother.

"All the best blades have names."

"Like Ra," she said referring to her brother's sword. "Does this have a name?"

"Can't you guess?" Ajano teased. "It was your mother's nickname."

Cleo was puzzled at first. She did not know her mother had a nickname, other than whatever titles she was given. She felt the sword's weight and size. It was slightly smaller than a Janissary's khopesh, two times lighter, and made from unbreakable ever-steel. Along the blade was a series of glyphs she could read, but most were strange, almost alien, and beyond her ability to decipher.

"Lightning!"

"You are your mother's daughter," Ajano chuckled. Cleo ran up to him and gave him one last hug. When he pulled away, he brushed the hair away from her face. "I still remember when you came into this world, red and screaming…. Now look at you. A beautiful young woman –"

"Who's being sold off."

"Cleo, we've talked about this," Ajano said, trying his very best to re-ensure reassure her. "If things were different, Nehla would go instead. And be out of both of our fur."

Cleo rolled her eyes, "I could just use Lightning to persuade them otherwise."

"Don't ever say that!" he snapped. "If you're going to keep that sword, then you have to promise me three things. One, never use it unless it is for self-defense. Two, never use it on your sister. And three, don't tell Nehla."

Cleo's laughter echoed through the palace, and would never be heard again.

Cleo walked through the Marble hallway towards the shrine of past royalties. Outside in the courtyards, servants brushed sand away before the sun got too hot, and the yards were all noise and chaos, but inside the palace it was still cool and quiet. Too quiet for Cleo's liking.

She reached the door and stood for a good long moment, afraid. She took courage of thinking what would happen if she didn't do it. She straightened and entered the room.

The Great Eye was a place where the dead Kings and Queens of Khadar were buried. Over a hundred kings circled the top rows, and only ten were at foot level. Nehla was there beside their father's statue. She was dressed in the most regal, and over- the- top dress she had in her wardrobe; Cleo only wore a simple white gown

She stood in the door for a moment, afraid to come closer, but figured that it would be worth it in the end.

Nehla looked over. For a moment she did not seem to recognize her. Finally she blinked. "What are you doing here?" she asked in a voice that was completely flat and emotionless.

"I came to say goodbye to father," said Cleo.

Her tone did not change. "You've said it. Now go away."

Part of her wanted to flee, but she knew that if she did he might never see this place again. She took a nervous step into the Great Eye. "Please," she said.

Something cold moved in her eyes. "I told you to leave," she said. "We don't want you here."

Once that would have sent her running, it might even have made her cry; now it made her angry. She would be Queen of Thundera and she would be more powerful than her half-sister. "Don't care," she said.

"Do you want me to call the guards?"

"Call them. Call all of the Janissaries if you want," Cleo said, defiant. "You can't stop me from seeing him." She crossed the room, keeping the statue between them, and looked up at their father.

Their father looked like a larger, older, and wiser looking Ajano made out of blazing marble. In one claw was a granite sword while holding several scrolls in the other.

"Hi dad," she said, "I'm sorry I didn't come before. I was afraid." She could feel the tears rolling down her cheeks. Cleo no longer cared. "I'm going far away, might not be back for a while, but I'll come back as soon as I can. I can't leave Ajano alone with Nehla forever."

"There you go with those jokes," Nehla said. "Making them to lighten the mood and insult me, but none of them will top your first one. When you were ripped from your whore mother, and killed my father. You killed two people with that joke."

"He was my father too." She muttered.

Cleo was at the doorway when Nehla called out to her. "Cleo," she said. Cleo should have kept on going, but she had never called her name like that before. She turned to find her looking at her face, as if she was seeing it for the first time.

"Yes?" she said.

"It should have been you," she told her. Then she turned back to the statue and began to cry, her whole body shaking with the sobs. Cleo had never seen her cry before.

It was a long walk outside to the main yard.

Outside, everything was noise and confusion. The heavy wagons were being loaded, people were shouting, Har'Gars were being harnessed and saddled and led from the pens. A slight windstorm began to throw some sand around, and everyone was in an uproar to be off.

Prince Tygra was in the middle of it, shouting commands with General Panthro. Cheetara was giving her legendary Clerics orders to stay ahead of the convoy, and to announce their arrival when they got close enough to Thundera. Bengali and Pumyra were making sure all of their equipment would make the long journey home. She then spotted Lion-O. Her future husband was speaking to Nikolia over some trivial manner, and seemed utterly oblivious that she was a mere stone's throw away.

This was the life that Cleo was going into. A life where she would be no more than just a shadow.

A soldier tapped her on the shoulder. The soldier's tan and brown armor made it impossible to tell what species or gender it was. All she could tell is that it was two times bigger than she was and towered over her. The soldier escorted the lioness onto the wagon and helped her into her cabin. The soldier asked if she wanted anything for the trip, but she refused. After a while, the soldier left. Soon after Tygra, Cheetara, Panthro, Bengali, Pumyra, and the twins entered the wagon – taking the cabins behind her and leaving her all to herself.

Perfect. She thought, but all of her thoughts became fuzzy as she pulled her legs up and began to cry. She would never hear her brother call her his little princess any more or see the marble towers blacken in the setting sun. She would never hear the vagabond children running barefoot and naked to cool off in the bay, or the festival the Sun priests would put on. All of those were to be forgotten memories in the sand. She was being sold off to a king who ruled over two-thirds of the planet, and expected her to bear and raise his children. Soon enough tired and grief-stricken, she cried herself to sleep.

Cleo awoke hours later to find herself in absolute darkness. At first she thought she was back in her own bed, but then her memories started to come back to her. The arrangement, Ajano giving her the only thing that belonged to her mother, Nehla crying and now panic started to creep over her. The tight walls of her cabin began to close in on her, and she desperately needed some air.

Cleo emerged from the wagon, gasping and sweating, and found that it was not the middle of the night, but rather late afternoon. She looked up into the dark gray sky. The entire kingdom of Khadar was currently in darkness. It was not full nighttime, more like dusk or dawn. Still, the effect was similar. It had become, even for the desert, very, very cold. It did not bother the cats or dogs who could naturally see in the dark, or humans who wore special goggles. But it, apparently, got to the har'gar. They obviously slowed down and collapsed because of the steep drop in temperature. Their movements, never graceful, were now almost ridiculous. Most of them curled into their sleep states. It did not help with the progress of the caravan.

Cleo noticed a group of soldiers who made a small fire out of some kind of wood that grow far up north. As she sat down in the cooling sand, she heard the soldiers in front of her, all humans, two males, one female.

The biggest one had to be six one, six two at most, and he was tone when compared to the other soldiers he came with. He had the type of dark tan that he was born with rather than gained, whatever there was for hair was a short rusty brown, and his eyes were a mixture of blue and green. On the side of his head was a tattoo of a fist clenching three arrows.

The one sitting next to him was a head smaller than his friend, but hard more muscle density. His skin was marble white and his hair was a mixture of black and silver which expanded to his shoulder. But his eyes were dark and serious and could pierce straight through her with his falcon-like appearance.

The woman in the group was unpretentiously pretty. She was five-eight, five-nine at least. She had rich, dark brown skin and huge black eyes. Eyes that brooked no nonsense as she listened to her two comrades speak. Her bright white hair was cut short around her neck, but longer locks curled from crown of head to ear length. Her nose was small and flat, her lips wide and generous. The body that the body-suit tried to conceal had beautiful curves.

"… not like real night at all, y'see? It's just an eclipse," Said the falcon-like man.

"Whatyamean, it ain't night. Looks like it to me," the man with the facial tattoo.

"Not to me. Not dark enough. Plus we can't even see the stars."

"Give it a little while. It'll get darker," said the woman.

"No, it won't. It'll get lighter. It's just an eclipse, like I said."

"Well, that's just like this blasted country." She swore.

"Thundera gets the same eclipse…." The tattoo man said

"Got sand too, but I wouldn't compare it!" She said.

"Well if it isn't our esteemed guest," the human said as he peeked over his shoulder. "How may we help you, ma'am?"

Normally people would address her with a pompous title, but these three men the word "ma'am" was good enough. "I was just wondering how close we are to Thundera," She said, making herself comfortable in the cool sand.

"Well we're about an hour away from the border," said the woman.

"If it wasn't for this lousy eclipse," said the man with the tattoo.

"It made the har'gars extremely lazy. I mean look at them!" The human exclaimed, making a gesture to theirs. All three were all curled up in a ball and in a weird triangular circle. "If they didn't spit or smell so bad, they'd actually be kinda cute."

Cleo had over a million questions to ask them, because they were her only way of knowing what the rest of the world looked like. She even had a question of what grass was like. But the first one that got past her lips was. "What are your names?"

A simple question, and one Nehla would have scolded her for, saying that lions do not mingle with the lesser races, but then again Cleo was no longer under the eye of her sister and that felt liberating.

"Miss dashing there is Abena," the tattoo man said, referring to the woman. "He's Falco and I'm Havox."

Cleo politely bowed to each, which was weird in their eyes.

"Abena's the prince's aide. She was just about to tell us the latest."

"Yeah," said the falcon-man called Falco. "What's gonna happen now? Forget the rest of that eclipse crap."

"Well," Abena began, "Prince Tygra said that the eclipse should move any time now. And when that happens the heat'll be back and we can move."

"Ah, shit," said Havox. "And I was starting to like the cold."

Abena laughed harshly. "What choice do we have? We don't wanna be late, so we'll have to double time our way home."

"Oh my eking legs!" Havox exclaimed. Falco, Abena and Cleo all laughed at his gesture.

"How long have you guys been in?" Cleo asked.

"Eight years," said Falco.

"Nine years," said Havox.

"Five years," said Abena.

Cleo was amazed. "You mean this is….your career?"

"Hell, yes," said Abena.

"So you've…. Done this before?"

"Fought before?" asked Havox. "Sure have. "Fought and defeated Mumm-Ra, the Mad Dogs, and Vultures."

"And the Apes. Don't forget them," added Abena.

"How could I," replied Havox dryly.

"Hell," blurted Falco, importantly. "My very first time on the front was against those filthy dogs…

"At least you could see them…"

"Yeah, yeah," Abena said. "We know you've been around. We've all been around."

Cleo was fascinated by these men. They had been and seen things she had only heard in stories and market place gossip. Now she wished she had something to contribute.

"So what about you?" Abena asked. "You've probably been all over the world – when it wasn't on fire."

"No. Not really," Cleo said.

Now it was their turn to be amazed. "Really?" Falco asked. "A rich princess like you."

"Truth be told, I rarely left the palace walls." Cleo had been born and raised behind the high walls of Kwandi, and Khadar's desert kept her there. The only time she ever left the palace grounds was when she went with Nehla and Ajano to their beach compound on Zail Island. "This is as far north I've been."

Havox was about to say something, when he noticed Falco. The human had his nose stuck up in the air, and he was making loud breathing noises. He yelled out, "AMBUSH!"

In the near blinding flash of the sun reemerging, portions of sands blasted high into the sky and the dunes collapsed around the caravan. At the crest of the dune were the insurrectionists – humans from beyond the shifting sands. They were scarier than the stories that Nehla had told her. They wore headscarves that covered their entire head, and only left a slit for their eyes that were flaming red. Their desert smocks matched the desert, making them seem to melt with the sand.

At once, they poured down the dunes, poorly kept rifles firing – mainly at the Har'Gar to send them into a panic. But due to the eclipse, and their thick skin, the beasts were slowly starting to stand. Havox stayed with Cleo, getting her back to one of the wagons - that was made into a minor fortress. Cleo looked behind her and saw the dunes. They were on fire. Long streaks of red and thunderous cracks reduced the dune into a blazing white strip of glass.

"Don't look," Havox forced her head down. His armor repelled any stray bullets just enough to get Cleo to the wagon.

Lady Pumyra was already there, ordering any soldiers in her, or her husband's, command to help bring in the wounded. She was the first who noticed that Havox was bleeding. There was a cut on the back of his neck caused by a close call by an enemy bullet. Havox refused any treatment, took some bandages and wrapped them around his neck. His boots made a hard thud sound as he cleared the small space that the wagons left, and then he was lost to the cause.

Cleo began to panic. She had never seen a battle, let alone been left right in the fray of one either. She felt so powerless until she remembered the one thing that would save her life. _"Lightning!"_

She ran to where her luggage was being stored. Her chest was heaving and it was becoming harder to breathe as she pushed several other, heavier, pieces of luggage out of the way. When she found her own chest she flung it open, tore through her belongings, and found her lightning at the bottom. Cleo felt somewhat relieved when she held her mother's sword, but terrified when someone grabbed her by the shoulder and spun her around.

It was one of the rebels. His headscarf was covered with dirt and blood, and he carried a rifle that seemed more like a metallic stick. He was speaking the weird language that all humans from the Shifting Sands spoke, and from the way he grabbed her proved that he wanted to take her as a hostage.

"Stay away." Cleo said, pulling out lightning. The blade seemed to spark as it came from its sheath, and it made the only thing keeping her from the rebel.

The rebel began to talk slower, like the people in Ajano's court used to do to him. He pointed to himself, then to the battle outside, but it mattered little to Cleo because she had no idea what he was saying. Troopers from Lion-O's guard had entered the wagon looking for her, which meant that the rebel attack had failed. The rebel was now scarred and desperate. He reached out to grab Cleo one last time.

"Stay away!" She shouted. Almost by instinct, lightning lived up to its name. With one quick and lucky strike, Cleo cleaved the rebel's head clean off.

She did not remember when Bengali took her sword away from her, or when Pumyra injected her with a powerful sedative to knock her out for two whole days, but she remembered the rebel's head being cut clean off of his body. How one last gurgle of life was all he could muster as his head rolled on the floor made her body tense up underneath the blankets.

She awoke to a rather alien sight. Endless desert was now a sea of green valleys, flint hills, grey and rugged, with small towns and outposts on their stony summits. Further on the land was lower, the ground flattening to rolling plains that stretched as far as the eye could see. Metal bridges spanned swift, narrow rivers, while large farms spread out across the valleys near the rivers. The road was flat and smooth as glass giving the wagon a more comfortable ride.

"Are we awake?" A voice spoke out.

"We're not sure," Cleo replied, cradling her pounding head in her hands. "Are we alive?"

"Yes we are."

"Then we're awake," she groaned. "But we are very puzzled."

She looked up to see another human, a male one whom she knew only by reputation. Nikolia Angelucci infiltrated Ajano's janissaries by assuming the name of Orman. He was always quiet, hanging in the background, and always reading – which was not different from now.

"Where are we?" she asked.

"We just past Cloud Peaks mines an hour ago," Nikolia replied. "We'll be in Thundera within the hour."

"How did I get here?" She groaned as her head throbbed.

"We found you in the storage wagon with a pretty threatening blade and a dead man. You were so deep in shock that Lady Pumyra had to put you under."

"And how did I end up in here?"

"King Lion-O brought you here."

Through the entire conversation, Nikolia had not looked up from his nameless book, which did irate Cleo. "Why do you read so much?" She asked.

Just then Nikolia looked up at the sound of annoyance in Cleo's voice. He closed the book on a finger and said, "Look at me and tell me what you see."

The lioness looked at him suspiciously. "Is this some sort of trick? I only see you. Nikolia Angelucci."

Nikolia chuckled. "You are remarkably polite, for a princess. You are what, seventeen?"

"Nineteen. Almost twenty."

"Nineteen and you were able to cleave a man's head from his body. What you see is a human. We do not have claws, nor sharp teeth, we can't breathe under water, fly, or run at incredibly fast speeds. We can't see in the dark without special gear, and our sense of smell is less than adequate compared to Thunderians. And yet, humans as a species have seemed to beat the odds because we learn and quickly adapt to our new surroundings. My two older brothers are on Lion-O's council, and my wife and sister are governesses. I must do my part for the safety of my people, wouldn't you agree? But how? Well King Lion-O has his sword, Lord Bengali has his hammer, Prince Tygra has his whip, and I have my mind – and a mind needs a book like a sword sharpening stone." Nikolia went back to his book. "That's why I read so much, Princess. It keeps me, and other people, alive."

The lioness absorbed that all in silence. Nikolia then spoke up and said, "And you? What's your story, Shir?"

Cleo was annoyed by that name, but chose not to show it in front of the human. "Ask me nicely, and maybe I'll tell you."

"A reserved one," Nikolia chuckled in his throat. "You'll fit right in."

The rumble of a distant fanfare shook through the wagon. Nikolia closed his book for good this time and said. "It's about time."

The main street of Thundera was swarming with people who had all come out to see the parade of the king's people. As always, Lion-O road in at point followed by Nikolia, and his snipers; then came the company who were guarding the wagons, with one hundred fifty in front and the other one hundred fifty guarding the rear.

Lion-O entered the palace's citadel, and dismounted. Nikolia followed suit and was immediately greeted by a clean-shaven man who was several years old than him. He walked up to him with a familiar roar, and crushed him in a bone-crunching hug. "Nikolia! Ah, it is good to see this baby face again." The man looked him over top to bottom, and laughed. "What's with the beard? Where have you been?"

Viktor Angelucci was Nikolia's eldest brother and Master of Law and Justice on the Council. He was an above average sized man with short dark hair, a trimmed beard, sideburns, and dark-green eyes.

From his sideburns on, he grew his facial hair horizontally. On his cheek he grew it downwards with a pointed end.

"Protecting the king of course."

"And you have been doing a hell of a job." He looked past Nikolia to see Lion-O paying his respects to a statue of his mother and father. "Your grace. Thundera is yours."

By then the others were dismounting as well, and stable hands were coming forward for their mounts. Lion-O's soon-to-be queen, Cleo, was escorted off the wagon by Tygra, Cheetara and Pumyra. Viktor knelt on the tiled ground to kiss the white lioness's hand, while Tygra went up to him like a long lost brother. Then the children came out from the castle, running into their parent's waiting arms, and introducing them to Cleo.

No sooner had those formalities of greeting been completed than Lion-O had said to Viktor, "Take me down to the crypt, Viktor. I want to pay my respects."

Viktor could not help but respect him for that, for remembering her still after all of these years. He called for a light. No other words were needed. Tygra had begun to protest. They had been riding for almost two weeks, everyone was tired and cold, surely they could refresh themselves first and it would give him a good chance to show Cleo around the palace. The dead could wait. He had said no more than that; Lion-O had looked at Tygra, and then Cleo, and they said no more.

They went down to the crypt together, Viktor, Tygra, and this king they scarcely recognized. The winding stone steps were narrow. Viktor went with the flashlight, "I trust you enjoyed the journey, my lords."

Tygra snorted. "Sand and dunes and wastelands, and not a decent inn south of the border. I've never seen such a vast emptiness."

"Where were all of the people?"

"Probably hiding in the sand for all we knew." Tygra grinned. They both laughed, but Lion-O kept walking which killed the mood.

"My lords," said Viktor respectfully. He turned the light in a wide semicircle. Shadows moved and lurched and some danced. Steady light touched the stones underfoot and brushed against long procession of large brownstone pillars that lead on ahead, two by two, into the darkness. Between the pillars, the dead kings and queens sat on their stone thrones against the walls, backs against the coffins which held their earthly remains. "She is down at the end, with your mother and father."

He led the way between the pillars and Lion-O followed wordlessly, shivering in the subterranean chill. It was always cold down here. Their footsteps roof off the stones and echoed in the vault overhead as they walked among the dead of the Royal Family. The old lions watched them past. Their likenesses were carved into the stones that sealed the tombs. In long rows they sat, blind eyes staring out into the eternal darkness, while replicas of the Sword of Omens and the gauntlet were built into them. The shifting shadows made the stone figure seem to stir as the living passed by.

Viktor stopped at last and shone the light on a wooden door. The crypt continued on far into the darkness ahead of them, but beyond that point the tombs were empty and unsealed; black stalls waiting for their dead, waiting for Lion-O and his offspring. If not his, then Tygra, Cheetara, and their children. Viktor did not like to think of that.

"Here we are," he told his king.

Lion-O and Tygra nodded silently, knelt, and bowed their heads.

There were two tombs, side by side, and one heavy wooden door. King Claudius, Lion-O's and Tygra's father, had a broad, stern face. The stonemason had known him well. He sat with quiet dignity, stone claws holding tight to the sword. A slightly smaller statue on his side was his wife.

Leona was their mother who died giving birth to Lion-O. He never knew her, but from Tygra's stories it was said that she was an extremely kind woman. She also seemed to embody the best of what it meant to be a mother.

When Viktor opened the door, Lion-O was the first to go in. Inside was the first and only thing in the dark crypts which showed any life: a replication of a meadow, filled with real trees and flowering plants, alive with little birds fluttering amongst the flowers. A hole far above brought in both water and sunlight so that the plants could grow and prosper. A statue stood center of the meadow, a cougar, whose design was made by the greatest artisans.

Lady Melisandre was a cougar that Lion-O met after the literal fall of Avista. She was described by all who knew her as beautiful, with the dark brown fur, jet black hair, grey eyes and what most call a "woman's kind of courage," but she was never afraid to pick up sword in battle. The group loved her with all their hearts. Lion-O had loved her even more. If she had lived, she was to have been her bride.

"She was more beautiful than this," the king said after a silence.

"We had the best sculptors make her statue." Viktor said.

"And not even the best could do it. They captured her outer beauty, but not her fire." His eyes lingered on Melisandre's face, as if he could will her back to life. Finally he rose, made creepy by his thin appearance. "She deserved more than this…"

"These were her last wishes," Tygra said quietly. "This is her place."

"She should be on a hill somewhere, under a fruit tree, with sun and clouds above her and the rain to wash her clean."

"We were with her when she died," Tygra reminded his king. "She wanted to come back to Thundera, and to rest alongside her family."

Lion-O could still hear her at times. Her laughs and her little quips still haunted him, what made it worse was hearing her final words. As she lay in his arms, choking on blood and other fluids, she whispered, I love you. Lion-O remembered the way she had smiled then, how tightly her fingers had clutched his as she gave up her hold on life. After that he remembered nothing. They had found him still holding her body, silent with grief. It was said that Tygra, Bengali, and Panthro had to restrain Lion-O so that they could remove him from the body.

"I bring her flowers when I can," Viktor said. "She was… always fond of flowers."

Lion-O touched her cheek, his fingers brushing across the rough stone as gently as if it was real flesh. "I vowed to kill Mumm-Ra for what he did to her."

"You did," Tygra reminded him.

"Only once," Lion-O said bitterly.

They had come together at the Black Pyramid while the battle crashed around them, Lion-O with his Sword and Armor of Omens, the demon Mumm-Ra with the Sword of Plundarr. The skies over the desert seemed to rain blood they circled and clashed, again and again, until - at last - a decisive blow from Lion-O's blade pierced deep into the hellspawn's chest. When Tygra and the other Thundercats had finally come onto the scene, Mumm-Ra lay dead with his head on a spike and the rest burning in a pit.

"In my dreams, I kill him every night," Lion-O admitted. "A thousand deaths will still be less than Mumm-Ra deserved."

There was nothing Tygra or Viktor could say to that. After a long silence, Tygra said, "We should head back up. Princess Cleo is waiting."

"She would make a good wife." Viktor piped in, but was immediately nudged by Tygra.

"I don't need a wife any longer," Lion-O said as he moved past them. "I just need someone to produce and care for my next of kin. She should do fine."

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

**Fuuko no Miko: Yeesh, I thought Lion-O was bad, but now he needs an over haul.**

**Just tell Cleo to get out the jackhammer and TNT.**

**Viktor: But the most important thing is. I'M ALIVE!**


End file.
